


The Weight of the World

by elena_stidham



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, F/M, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Mute Link, Poetry, Selectively Mute Link, Survivor Guilt, This hasn't been beta'd, he isn't mute he just doesn't talk, i may continue this, in the beginning anyway it's poetry that leads into a story, not sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 16:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15028244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elena_stidham/pseuds/elena_stidham
Summary: They were just kids – just a couple of kids running out of time and having to carry the weight of the world.





	The Weight of the World

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS FOR: Violence, near death experiences, slight language, angst  
> SONGS USED TO GET IN THE MOOD: It would be blasphemous if I didn’t listen to the Breath of the Wild soundtrack while writing this fic. Also “Castle Byers” from Stranger Things 2  
> So I finally gave in and bought a Nintendo Switch and Breath of the Wild, but since I bought it literally weeks before I had to move out I had to pack it away rather quickly. I had finished getting the Master Sword as well as the four Champions, but the lack of this game in my life is seriously, I shit you not, making me feel depressed. This game is incredible and I’m nowhere near done (I’m trying to get the memories), and it’s quickly becoming one of my favourite Zelda games. But, since I can’t play it all summer until August when I move back into Ball State, I decided to channel it by writing something Zelda related. It’s literally just a random poem that can also not count as a poem? But it leads into a story? And there’s no beta? Ehhhh whatever I hope it’s still enjoyable. If you want to follow me Tumblr and/or ask me random prompts, you can do so! My Tumblr is elenastidham and my Tumblr specifically for Zelda fics is minuetofthewild. But anyways! Thank you guys once again for reading and I hope you enjoy it!  
> -Elena

He starts – in silence.

Link’s used to the quiet, but listening to Hyrule become a world without noise…it’s unsettling, at the very, very least.

 

He walks – limping.

Link’s used to the pain, ending practically every night covering his body with bandages and hoping that this god forsaken elixir will finally heal his wounds.

 

He lies still – fading.

Link isn’t used to a lack of colour; a world that used to be so bright and lively, suddenly drying up at his fingertips because he’s running out of _time_.

 

Time, time, _time_. It always comes back to time. Link never has any time. He’s always scrambling around, day by day, searching for the pieces – hoping that time was just broken like a sheet of glass, shattered across the sky and showering onto the world below for him to find. He would starve himself from sleep at night, aching along the freezing path that he created, burning from within just to find some small inkling of _time._

 

But it never came.

 

He starts again the next morning – heavy.

Somehow, Link is used to the weight of the world.

 

* * *

****

Link wakes up gasping, his lungs fuming as he desperately rolls to the side and started to cough up patches of water that had been resting there. He feels a large hand gently pat at his back, almost afraid that too harsh of a touch might break him.

“Are you alright?”

It’s a voice he knows, he thinks. It’s familiar, but also blurry – wait, there’s water in his ears. He coughs again, shaking his head as he tries to dry and strain himself to listen. He’s panting, turning his body around to face whatever saved him; the voice suddenly matched.

Catching his breath is a harder task for Link to do at this moment, but he manages a nod when Sidon repeats his question.

“Thank Hylia,” he sighed in relief, keeping his arm close by in case Link needs to hack up a lung again. “You scared me to death.”

A deafening roar comes from across the stream, and Link’s head turns to find the culprit matching the sound. He tries to think back to what happened, everything in his head as fuzzy as when he first opened his eyes. He remembers reaching to his back, he remembers being submerged in water, he remembers seeing someone, then he remembers falling and falling and _falling._ Vah Ruta is marvellous, dangerous, and completely unforgiving.

That’s right. He failed.

There was _one_ area on the beast that his arrow couldn’t quite reach, and that’s all that he needed before he realised he was in the air for far too long. There was a second where he had forgotten how to breathe, and he turned back to the dock to cough and spit onto the wood below.

Why was this one so _hard?_

Every Divine Beast that precedented had been restored and the Guardians within were freed. Yet, there was something about Vah Ruta that almost deemed it impossible, almost unreachable. It may have had something to do with trying to keep his hands dry so he doesn’t electrocute himself with every arrow, it may be related to how he was never the strongest swimmer, it may even be tied to how easy it was for him to lose energy while firing arrows in the air.

Or it was because it just reminded him of his failures.

Link had _one_ job for Hyrule, and it was to protect it. And yet, despite all he could to save Zelda and fight against the Calamity, he only opened his eyes to find the broken pieces of all the failures he’s left behind.

_Mipha._

Link props himself on his elbows, staring down at the soaked wooden planks beneath him, watching the never-ending flow of rain continue to bucket down onto the land the bodies upon it, his breathing heavy and uneven as the rest of his body remains still, not wanting to make eye contact with the Zora that’s a living reminder of someone that he left behind.

It most definitely did not help at all that they felt something for each other. _Nothing_ sat right with Link about that.

“Do you want to try again?”

Link reaches back, feeling only one shock arrow remaining in his quiver. He has one chance, and he knows he’s going to fail it – but still, he nods anyway.

Sidon helps him rise to a stand, studying the beast for a brief moment and jumping back into the water. Link hesitates, before he follows onto the Zora’s back, holding tightly as his body jerks forward at the sudden momentum. The waterfall glides closer and closer by the second, and with two simple pats, Sidon nods and pushes him into their only opportunity.

Link ascends, and, as he falls, he feels time start to slow. This was his only arrow, and the shot was clear. He can almost hear that voice again, telling him that she was counting on him, that Hyrule needs him, that the whole world needs him.

Again, he feels the weight.

The arrow slips past his fingers, rocketing to where he sees glowing pink and red, but just as before, he runs out of stamina a little too late. Link plummets towards the water below, an arm reaching forward in a desperate attempt to maintain just a few more seconds in the air – but that’s all he needs. Overhead, he watches as the final arrow crashes against the target, shocking the pink to green.

Vah Ruta cries again, the trunk falling limp and splashing into the water. Link hears Sidon shout something, but he finds himself underwater before he can try to decipher the sentence. It doesn’t last long, however; he feels himself being pulled upwards and onto the Zora’s back once more as he attempts to regain his breath.

The rain has stopped.

Link could tell that Sidon was saying something, but he doesn’t hear, or it may be more appropriate to point out he wasn’t paying attention enough to understand. He turns his body, facing the direction they were going, and suddenly the words become clear.

Vah Ruta remains still enough for Link to climb, and as he turns towards Sidon to give him a simple thank-you, he instead stumbles against the suddenly moving platform. He looks back, locking eyes with the Zora for a brief moment before he swims away. Link takes a deep breath, turning towards the entrance and stepping inside the Divine Beast. He made it this far – he didn’t fail – but he isn’t finished.

And yet, the weight of the world starts to feel a little bit lighter.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t have time for this.

It was pure guilt that drives Link to accept Sidon’s request on staying for the night. “It’s so dangerous out there, my friend,” he had said. “At least stay until the morning where it’s safer on the road.”

Link could only accept with a sigh.

Sidon was gracious in the room he had selected for the Hylian Champion – a grand, almost ballroom kind of bedroom complete with a bed you’d sink in and the best damn view of the Domain out his window. Outside his door are stairs that spiral down into the inn, leading him back into the open kingdom and fresh into the wild.

He didn’t have a single second of spare time for this.

Link finds his way into the private bathroom, forcing himself to prepare a shower. He figures he might as well do something useful instead of taking away more time that he has no right to waste.

What comes next is a gentle voice in his head; it’s powerful, but booming, a gentle kind of strength that hammers against cloth.

_Mipha’s Grace is ready._

The idea that flickers in his head is not a smart one. Link remembers everything that Mipha had told him when he freed her from the Calamity, and he remembers the specific sadness in her eyes when she spoke about not being able to see anybody ever again. The idea starts to feel a little more preferable. He figures there’s a dozen other ways to get his point across, but nothing would involve actually being able to _see_ h _—_

_“Promise me that you will not hesitate to call upon my power if you ever find yourself in need.”_

He freezes, remembering those words, and remembering what would _work._ He sets a set of towels right by the sink before walking back into the bedroom, sitting on the bed to really, _really_ think about what it was he was about to do.

The worst possible outcome would include a lot of trauma and the fact that Mipha wouldn’t be seen, but the best? Sure, there’d be a moment of panic, but then there’ll be a moment of relief. There’ll be at least some kind of closure that he never got to have.

Link’s hands are shaking, the sword he carries suddenly as heavy as Hyrule. He finds himself in the blade’s reflection, and despite locking eyes with the look of fear across his face, he turns the sword to where the tip is pressed against his side.

Link takes a deep breath, then he closes his eyes.

Sidon, at this point, finds himself in a conversation with Rivan about the kingdom affairs – specifically how the Domain can contribute to the princess and her knight in the upcoming battle against Calamity Ganon. It was a storm that was brewing miles and miles away, but he could see it, clear as day, about to burst at any given moment. They just have to be ready for it. They have to be ready for _anything._

_Anything._

A shriek echoes throughout smooth stone walls, and by the time Sidon’s head snaps towards the direction of the sound, he discovers the source behind the cry.

Link coughs twice, his hands trembling against a growing red wound in his shirt, then he collapses like a pile of sand.

“Oh—oh _Hylia_ —” Sidon gasps, rushing down the steps to cradle the wounded warrior in the base of his arms. His grip is gentle, not yet careful, but definitely full of worry and a panicked uncertainty. He looks up, his voice loud and reaching to any Zora that can possibly hear. “Somebody, get the medic! I’m bringing the Hylian Champion, he is gravely wounded!”

Sidon lets out a shaking breath, turning his teary eyes back to Link, who, by moving his hand away from his wound, was rapidly growing more and more pale and limp. “You will be alright, my friend,” he sobbed softly. He reaches a hand over, pressing it to the wound to try and keep him alive a little longer until the medic arrives. “Do you hear that? Everything is going to be alright.”

Link coughs, a spew of blood ripping past his lips as he places his hand on Sidon’s and holds it away, allowing himself to bleed. He tries to speak, to tell him to wait, but all he can do is just gasp. Link remembers what this feels like – dying – he remembers the last moments of life behind his eyes and how tightly she had to hold. In a way, it was a little funny; in the final moments of death everybody shares the same face.

He remembers the blackness, then he remembers nothing. Nothing at all.

“No,” Sidon pleads, gently yet frantically shaking the boy in his arms as he feels his chest heave. “No, no, no, no, _please—”_

Just as a sob rips through his body, he sees a small, dainty hand reach over to Link’s wound, a cool light emerging from the fingertips.

_“It is my pleasure.”_

Sidon’s blood chills, his eyes trailing up to meet his sister’s eyes – the striking shade of gold was still iridescent even in death. He stares at her, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes are wide. There’s a moment, where he almost doesn’t believe, but the moment she maintains eye contact and _recognises,_ that’s when his cries turn into one of a different breed. She smiles softly, and she reaches her hand towards him, and he leans his face in.

There is no touch, there is no caress, there is no feeling, but there is a sensation. Sidon releases a shaking breath, the tears slipping past his eyes now unreadable, and just as she was about to speak, he watches as she slowly fades away.

He remembers Link pushing his hand, and that’s when he knows. There was a moment where, despite all that had just happened, Sidon is happy that it happened. There is another part that’s completely miserable, and yet there’s a portion of him that’s lost in feeling and doesn’t know where to stand at all.

The sound of a deep breath is what snaps Sidon’s attention. He turns his head towards Link, who now once again carries a glimmer in his eyes and soft shaded touches of pink behind his skin. He breathes, he awakes, and then there is a moment of relief.

One of these days, Link’s afraid, he’s going to cave under the weight of the world.

 

* * *

 

When Link wakes, it’s in the dead of night, the moonlight gleaming through his window. He vaguely remembers the moments where he stirred after Mipha’s Grace, but overall everything else was fuzzy – fuzzy and cold. He takes a deep breath as he sits up, scratching the back of his head with a yawn.

He pushes his blankets away, noticing he had been dressed in a simple pair of night clothes – the tunic he had worn hours before was now cleaned and folded neatly on the nightstand next to him.

The left corner of the bed, Link notices, is soaked. The wet footprints that lead to and from the door are just as obvious, too, and it doesn’t take much for Link to come to a conclusion about it and just sigh. He knew that this would be something that would take a long time for Sidon to heal from, but he hopes that it did heal something else in the meantime.

Link takes off his night shirt, taking his tunic in his hands and pausing for a moment before he steps into the bathroom once more, studying himself in the mirror. He twists his body, not peeling his eyes away from his skin. There wasn’t even a scar.

He hums briefly, blinking a few times at the reflection. He looks back down at the blue tunic in his hands, staring for just a moment before he forces himself to put it back on.

When he finishes changing into some proper clothes, he looks through his Zora armour, finding a little trinket that dangles just slightly off the cap. He takes it and rips it off, setting it gently on the wet spot on the bed – very clearly, for Sidon. The Zora’s Sapphire is something precious, but it does not belong to him. Not anymore.

He figures Sidon would make better use of it than he or Mipha ever could.

He nods slightly with a deep breath; then, without a single goodbye or hint as to what comes next, Link silently leaves Zora’s Domain.

 

* * *

 

Link has an idea of how long he’s been traveling, but he doesn’t know how far he’s gone. Normally in these moments alone he’s used to talking to himself, repeating things he’s heard or softly singing along to music close by or anything else of the like.

However, on this road, there’s just silence.

Then he remembers _her._

It’s not that he had completely forgotten her – he’s recovering memories, still – but it’s more like he keeps her tucked away in the back of his mind because he knows the moment her voice makes a reappearance in his head he’s sure to break. So there he is now, pressing his knees to his chest as he stares into the campfire, remembering her – breaking.

Link remembers the softness in her gaze, the tenderness in her voice, the dozens of times they almost kissed – and the one time they did.

He remembers it, the same way he remembers her failure upon Mt. Lanayru. He watched her still in the spring, her face an unreadable mixture between disappointment and expectation. He normally never faced her while she was there, her white dress becoming translucent and he always made sure to give her some decency; but her silence in the spring rang too loud, and he felt every inch and fibre in and on him push him to turn and check, just to make sure she’s safe and okay.

She was safe, but okay? That subject was a different topic to debate.

She turned to face him, her deep frown piercing through his soul. Link opened his mouth to speak, but he found himself listening instead.

“Nothing,” she had said. “There’s nothing.”

Link frowned.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “I’ve done everything right, but nothing’s going right.”

Link wanted to reach her, to scoop her into his arms and kiss her until something finally _does_ go right. He wanted to take her heart and make it whole, filling in every hole that could until it was no longer possible for her to feel heartbreak again.

But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t ever do that.

Link wondered for a moment if a simple touch would break protocol, he thought that maybe if there was a split second where he could comfort her – would that be enough? He was too careful, too cautious, too caught up in rules and regulations for him to take a risk like that; and he hated it.

“I hate this,” she cried, her hands slamming into the water and her eyebrows furred together. “I hate all of this!” She kicked and where she stands, but she also forgot she was waist-deep in water. She slipped, plummeting beneath the gentle waves.

Link quickly rushed after her, running down the steps into the spring and wading through the water so he could pull her up. She broke the surface just as he reached her, now even more frustrated and enraged with herself and her vulnerability, reminded again how she was nothing but a failure.

Link’s hands reacted, reaching for her and gently grabbing the underside of her arms to keep her afloat, despite her attempts to swat him away. “I don’t need your help,” she yelled. “I’m tired of needing everybody’s help!”

But Link didn’t let go. There’s a moment where she shaked once, and he pursed his lips together. He wanted to lean in, but instead he compromised in himself and brought her close, holding her tightly against his chest and taking a deep breath at the new feeling.

They didn’t say anything. They’re tired; her head gently pressed against his chest as their breathing maintained equilibrium. There’s nothing said, until she finally chose to speak.

“Link,” Zelda pleaded, quietly. “Kiss me.”

Link pried away, cradling her face to study her features and he noticed how there wasn’t an ounce in her that took those words away. She meant it. She meant all of it.

His hands trailed behind past her face to brush her hair back, holding her instead by her temples and her ears before he leaned in. Their lips touched, just briefly, almost like a breath between two ends of east – a test, for the treat – with half-hooded eyelids and careful measurements of expression. She breathed in, shaky, before she swallowed hard and closed her eyes again. This time, when Link leaned in, his eyes closed, and he gently pressed her against the platform to hold her there.

It felt beautiful – being alive – something about the way she caressed her fingers across his chin and along his jaw brought him down to her, down to where every little touch was electrified, to where every kiss suddenly made everything feel right. He waited _too long._

And he loved her. He loved her before they found love, he found her before they made love, and he made her before they fell in love again.

Even in his moments of death, he leans in to kiss her again, but he doesn’t remember if their lips touched or if it was the rain that kissed him away. He remembers their fate, he remembers their loss – he remembers the weight of the world.

Link loves her still. He knows how much he loves her, and he knows he’s alive because she loves him.

Link hates that he knows – and still Zelda carries the weight of the world.


End file.
